Monsters Everywhere
by Sutcliff23
Summary: It starts out with a name, Moriarty. Then Sherlock meets his pet, an old friend of John's. Her past is just as screwed up as theirs. They fit like a puzzle together. Set before the Fall. John/Oc/Sherlock (Rating might change)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I do not own Sherlock, all credit goes to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Steven Moffat and Mark Gattis (Think i spelled their names right). All thanks to my Beta Shannon. Couldn't have gotten this down with out ya :)

* * *

Chapter 1:

_Afghanistan or Iraq?_

_Sorry?_

_Which one was it? In Afghanistan or Iraq?_

John Watson stared at the young man before him with a perplexed look upon his face. Not even two minutes into explaining what had happened to the unfortunate man on the metal slab, had he spouted the question.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" He asked again seemingly growing annoyed.

"Afghanistan.… How did you know?" John asked.

The dark haired man rolled his eyes. "It's in your stance obviously. Military crew cut, you still have a faint tan that stops at your wrist and you speak with confidence and intimidation. So it was either Afghanistan or Iraq."

"Brilliant." The words were out of John's mouth before he realized it.

The young man quirked a smile before turning back to the body. "Hmm...Older gentleman, probably mid-forties. Bald, wears a hair piece...What does your therapist think of you limp?"

The young man leaned in closer to the body as John flushed. "What? How did-"

"You're not human are you?" The young man murmured looking up to meet John's gaze.

"Beg your pardon?" The doctor asked, shifting. This man wasn't letting him get a word in edge wise. Maybe this guy was just a weirdo, like everyone said he was. He was looking at him with a look as if to say _Well? I'm waiting._ John swallowed thickly.

"I don't think that's any of your business," he answered, a bit stiffly

"Nonsense. Everything is my business," the young man replied straightening up,. "I'm a shape shifter and an empath. Quite a nuisance if you ask me."

John raised an eyebrow. "Why tell me?"

He shrugged. "Because I can."

"Healer," John said picking up the dead man's chart off of the table. "And a vampire."

The young man raised an eyebrow in turn. "Now that is a combination that is bound to come in handy."

John, despite himself, chuckled. "Not as often as you'd think."

"Dr. Watson. You have a patient upstairs," a young woman said coming into the morgue.

"Thank you Sarah," he smiled,. "I'm afraid you'll have to leave the morgue now."

The young man nodded. "Lead the way doctor," he drawled.

They walked down the corridor in silence. "221B Baker St."

"'Scuse me?" John asked looking up.

"The flat. Didn't Mike tell you? I am looking for a new flat mate. I told him how hard it must be to find someone to put up with me," he said.

"No. No he didn't tell me that," John frowned. "Why are you giving me an address?"

"You are a suitable flat mate. You are looking for a place to live right?" he asked.

John nodded. "Yes but-"

"Tomorrow afternoon at noon then," the young man said turning to leave.

"I don't even know your name," John called after him.

"Holmes, Sherlock Holmes," the young man answered tossing a smirk over his shoulder. "Oh, and I hope you don't mind the violin."

John watched him leave and shook his head. He was having a serious talk with Mike later.

* * *

Sherlock paced back and forth along the floor of the new flat he may have already purchased. Granted it wasn't such a big deal after all –, he knew the doctor would move in. He could tell right off the bat. But he'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. After all, it wasn't everyday someone called him brilliant.

"Sherlock, are you still pacing?" Mrs. Hudson asked coming into the room. She tsked and shook her head. "You'll make yourself sick if you keep doing that. Why don't you go for a walk, dear?"

"A walk. Yes. That's a perfect idea," he said nodding in agreement. He pulled on his coat and wrapped a scarf around his neck taking the stairs two at a time and flinging open the front door.

"Dr. Watson, I thought we agreed noon," he said, surprised, looking at the shorter man.

"It is noon," he replied.

Sherlock looked at his phone. So it was. "Right. Follow me then," he said turning on his heel.

He shrugged out of his coat and hung it up, leaving the scarf to dangle around his neck. He was aware of the doctor following behind. His presence emitting an aura of intimidation.

"I took the liberty of moving in already. Mrs. Hudson owed me a favor and gave us the flat at half price," he rattled off.

"Favor?" The doctor asked.

"Her husband was on death row, I merely helped provide some facts," he shrugged.

"You got her husband off the death row?" The older man asked.

"Good God, no. I made sure he hung," Sherlock answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Sherlock I thought I said go for a walk," Mrs. Hudson tutted coming out of the kitchen. "Why who's this handsome young man?"

"This is Dr. Watson," Sherlock answered.

"I prefer John," the doctor added. "Dr. Watson is what the hospital calls me."

Mrs. Hudson smiled. "There's an extra bedroom upstairs if you'll be needing it," she told him.

"Why wouldn't we need two bedrooms?" He asked confused.

"Oh don't worry dear. The lady next door has married ones," she winked.

"Oh. Oh, no, no, we aren't together," John stuttered, flushing. "We've only just met. Just acquaintances really."

"Oh, of course," she said. There was a joking tone to her voice. "Why don't I make some tea?"

John flushed more deeply and sat in the nearest empty seat.

"Five minutes in and I've been mistaken for someone's boyfriend," he muttered shaking his head.

"What are you mumbling about?" Sherlock asked looking up from the paper.

"Mrs. Hudson seems to think we're a couple," John answered meeting the intense blue gaze.

"Is that all?" Sherlock asked.

John nodded.

Sherlock just rolled his eyes. "You should be flattered John. I am quite an attractive male."

John raised an eyebrow. "Do you like men?"

"I'm married to my work John," the younger man sighed. "No time for relationships."

"That doesn't answer my question," John pointed out.

"Why does it matter my tastes? Relationships are mostly pointless, so it doesn't matter if my interest in the same or opposite sex," Sherlock replied, picking up the paper again.

"Err… right, okay," the doctor nodded slowly.

Mrs. Hudson returned with a tray of tea and biscuits. "Now don't get used to this boys. I'm not your housekeeper! I'll be downstairs…"

John thanked the woman before she left.

"Cream and two sugars," Sherlock said not looking up.

John rolled his eyes but proceeded to go ahead and make the man's tea, handing over the mug after a few moments.

"So what is it you do exactly?" John asked leaning back in the chair.

"I work with the police," he answered. "I'm something of a detective."

"Not a private investigator though I take it? Police don't consult P.I's…" John replied.

"Of course not. P. I's have no idea what they are doing. I am a consulting detective. Whenever the police are out of their depth — which is always — they consult me," Sherlock grinned slightly.

"The police don't consult amateurs_," _John pointed out taking a sip of his tea.

Sherlock closed up the paper and leaned forward in his seat. "When I met you for the first time yesterday, I said 'Afghanistan or Iraq?' You looked surprised," and before John could interrupt, Sherlock continued, "And no, I didn't know. I saw your haircut; the way you hold yourself says military. And you are a doctor, so army doctor. Obvious. Your face is tanned, but no tan above the wrists — you've been abroad but not sunbathing. The limp's really bad when you walk, but you don't ask for a chair when you stand, like you've forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were probably traumatic. Wounded in action, suntan — Afghanistan or Iraq."

"You said I had a therapist," John reminded.

"You've got a psychosomatic limp; of course you've got a therapist! Then there's your brother. Yes I can tell you have a brother. You're looking for cheap accommodation and you're not going to your brother for help? That says you've got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife; maybe you _don't _like his drinking."

Tea mostly forgotten, John just stared for a moment. "How can you possibly know about the drinking?"

"Shot in the dark. Good one, though. There you go, you see? You were right," Sherlock smirked triumphantly.

"_I _was right? Right about what?" John asked.

"The police don't consult amateurs," Sherlock answered, smiling.

"That was amazing."

"You think so?"

"Of course it was. It was extraordinary. It was _quite_... extraordinary."

"That's not what people normally say."

"What do people normally say?"

"Piss off…

The two shared a laugh and John sighed. "Sister. Harry's short for Harriet," he chuckled. "Other than that, you were spot on."

"Sister," Sherlock repeated seemingly deflated, a frown on his face.

"Sherlock dear, there's a police man here to see you," Mrs. Hudson called from downstairs.

There were loud footsteps on the stairs before a knock at the door.

"It's open," the younger man called as he sipped his tea.

John turned as he heard the door open.

"Why detective Lestrade. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Sherlock asked sitting up.

"There's been another," the man answered. "Only, they left a note this time."

Sherlock's eyes lit up like a child's on Christmas morning as he jumped from his seat. "Where?" Hehe asked.

"Across town," the man answered.

"We'll follow in a cab," Sherlock replied getting up.

"We?" Lestrade asked. He turned and noticed John sitting in the chair. "Sorry, didn't see you there."

"Quite all right. Dr. John Watson," John replied standing. "And what do you mean by 'we'?"

"Well it's not like I can talk to Skull...Mrs. Hudson took him away before you arrived," Sherlock answered. "Besides, I could always use a doctor's opinion."

Lestrade rolled his eyes and gave them directions before leaving. Sherlock looked at John expectantly.

"You're an Army doctor," Sherlock started.

"Yes. We've been over this," John sighed. "But why do you need my opinion?"

"Anderson doesn't like me," Sherlock stated in a matter of fact way. "Besides, you've seen death and injury, yes?"

John nodded. "Enough to last someone three lifetimes."

Sherlock quirked a small smile. "Want to see some more?"

"Oh God, yes!" John answered following the younger man downstairs.

"Now, where are you two off to?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"Four serial suicides and now a note. It's like a birthday present all tied up with a bow," Sherlock replied grinning. "No point in sitting around when there's something fun happening!."

Mrs. Hudson shook her head. "Look at you, all happy. It's not decent."

"Who cares about decent? The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on!" Sherlock exclaimed pulling on his coat. "It's time to play."


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2:_

_Tanis Montgomery was an addict. She wasn't addicted to drugs or alcohol, no matter what people seemed to think. No, Tanis was addicted to a different kind of drug. She was addicted to a man who wasn't really a man. The moment he stepped into the café, she had been hooked and he knew it. She was addicted to a demon - t. The worst kind of addiction there is…_

_America-1980_

The streets of New York had long since been deserted. No one wanted to be out after dark because of the news of all the attacks happening during that time. The bodies always found in dark alleys, bloodied, throat nearly torn to pieces.

Tanis smiled as she read the newspaper.

"The American Ripper. How…suiting," she mused as she picked up her coffee. She set the paper down and looked out the window. Her head turned as the door to the café opened, the bells above the door jingling.

Her breath nearly caught in her throat as a young man walked in. He wasn't too tall, five foot eight at the most. Alabaster pale skin, deep dark brown eyes and combed back, dark brown hair. He had a bit of stubble grazing his chin and he was Irish.

He was wearing a gray suit with a blue tie and gold cuff links. She ran her tongue over her lower lip and watched him walk up to the counter. He ordered a cup of tea, Earl Grey, with a bit of honey and a scoop of sugar.

She looked out the window again as he looked around the shop. It was rather empty; a little hole in the wall Café that most creatures of night deemed suitable enough to visit. There was the occasional human that entered, usually they had gotten lost, and more often than not it was the last anyone had seen of them.

"Is this seat taken?"

Tanis looked up to find Tea Man standing behind the empty seat. He had a thick Irish accent she noticed.

"It is now." She answered.

He smiled and slid into the seat with perfect ease. "I've never been here before. Had trouble finding it."

"New to the area?" She asked.

"You could say that," he answered raising his cup to his lips.

Her eyes remained trained on his slender throat. His Adam's apple bobbed as he drank his tea. He set the cup down and caught her gaze again.

"Moriarty," he said holding out his hand.

"Tanis," she replied accepting the hand shake.

"Forgive me if this too forward, but would you like to grab dinner this evening? There is a nice little Italian restaurant down from my hotel," he told her. "I'd be honored if you'd join me."

"It'd be my pleasure," she replied. "Shall we say eight?"

He watched her stand and nodded. "St. Vincent's at eight."

She flashed him a smile as she collected her bag. "See you at eight then Mr. Moriarty."

* * *

"Dinner was delicious, Mr. Moriarty," Tanis smiled as they walked along the water front.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Jim?" He asked with a hint of teasing. "Five dates justifies the use of first names."

"If you insist… James." She replied.

"Perhaps we could retire to my room for a drink," he offered.

"Lead the way," she said wrapping her arm around his.

"Do you know how most serpents like to kill their prey, James?" Tanis asked as she looked down at the man on the bed. He stared up at he, fear in his eyes. "They like to paralyze them so they can't move."

"P…Please…I…I don't want to die," Moriarty choked out.

"Oh no, no, no," she tsked. "I don't intend to kill you. At least…not yet."

She gave him a toothy grin revealing the tips of her fangs. She leaned down and ran the tips of the fangs across his collar.

"You're too different to kill. I want to take my time."

He shuddered under her breath, gasping as she bit into his flesh. He twisted beneath her and she held his wrists down squeezing. She licked her lips and as she pulled back, a satisfied smirk was on her face. But slowly, slowly, the smirk dissolved and James turned to look at her with a sickly sweet smile.

Her eyes narrowed and she hissed. "Demon."

Moriarty smiled. "Correct you are."

She hissed again and moved to get up. He grabbed her arms and held her in place. "Do you know what happens when you drink demon blood? No, of course not. I'm your first demon aren't I?"

He smirked and rolled them so he was above her. "Demon blood is highly addictive to Vetala's. After one bite they're instantly hooked on it. Even now you want more don't you?"

Tanis narrowed her eyes to slits. "Why would I want demon blood?"

"Because it's the only thing that ends your hunger," he answered. "Of course you must drink enough of it for that to happen."

"You planned this," she growled.

"Now you're getting it," he smiled. "Tell me, why is it you have no partner?"

"That is none of your business," she hissed, trying to break his grip.

"As of right now. It is my business," he replied pointedly. "So, why is it you have no partner?"

She looked away, her voice barely a whisper. "It was an accident. I didn't mean to kill him."

"And why did you kill him?" Moriarty asked. He let go of one of her arms and turned to her face to look at him. "Why?"

"I…I don't know," she answered as tears began sliding down her cheek.

Moriarty let her go. "I have a deal for you."

She sniffed and wiped the tears away. "What kind?"

"Give yourself to me and I'll do everything I can to make sure you are never hungry again nor that you are ever alone," he whispered. "Just give yourself to me."

Silence filled the room as pale green met dark brown. Slowly Tanis nodded. "O-okay."

Moriarty smiled a wolfish grin and made her sit up guiding her teeth to his neck. "Good girl," he purred. "That's a very good girl."

And on that night, on that crisp November night., Tanis Montgomery became an addict to a deadly drug.

* * *

A/N: Vetala are a type of monster, almost snake-like, that hunt in pairs so they can capture their prey. They can be killed by being stabbed in the heart with a silver knife


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

"I won't be back until late. Do try not to blow holes in the wall while I'm gone," John said as he pulled on his coat.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked.

"I told you. I have a date with Sarah," John answered. "I said so this morning."

"Ah yes. That nurse from the hospital.… Right."

John shook his head. "Like I said, I'll be back late. There's food in the fridge for you, and Mrs. Hudson is downstairs. Emergency numbers-"

"I can look after myself perfectly fine," Sherlock interrupted.

"I was going to say the emergency numbers are for anyone who happens to cross you if another Samurai or what not tries to attack you while I'm gone," John told him. There was a bit of teasing to his tone and Sherlock couldn't help his smile. They had been flat mates for a few months now and already they were acting like childhood friends. It felt nice to have someone else around, even if John wasn't as intellectually superior as Sherlock.

"Alright. See you later," John called as he left the flat.

Sherlock leaned back in his seat, setting down the experiment he was working on. He tapped his fingers to his chin before getting up.

"I'm going out Mrs. Hudson. I should be home in a few hours or so," he told the elderly woman.

"Don't go causing any mischief!" She called after him.

"No promises."

He locked the door behind him and stuffed his hands into his coat pocket, beginning his decent down the street.

It was a crisp January evening. He had a feeling John and Sarah had gone to one of their usual restaurants - dimly lit and warm with rich food and privacy. Two months they had been dating and John was still trying to 'get off with her' as he told Sherlock that night he had 'tagged' along on their date to the Chinese circus.

Truthfully Sherlock knew that Sarah was seeing someone else aside from John. It was so obvious. He always slept on the couch if he stayed over, they always had designated date nights picked by Sarah and nothing ever went past some steamy snogging. He felt bad for the doctor. He didn't deserve the way Sarah was treating him.

The consultant shook his head as he crossed the street, making his way to the shop. He was very capable of buying groceries, not that he would tell John that of course. He picked up one of the baskets and made his way to the dairy section.

His eyes scanned the freezer section, reaching for the last jug of whole milk, when someone else beat him to it. He narrowed his eyes and turned to face the culprit, finding a young woman putting the milk into her basket.

She was no younger than twenty two. Dark brown hair pulled back into a braid, emerald green eyes behind a pair of wire framed glasses and pale brown skin concealed beneath a red and blue flannel, jeans and a pair of slim knee high rain boots.

She was American, probably recently moved into the area seeing as he had never seen her before (and he knew all the shoppers that came to Tesco's at this time of night). There was also, of course, the fact that her basket held mostly microwavable foods.

"That was my milk," Sherlock stated. "Give it back."

She blinked at him before shrugging. "You snooze, you lose."

Sherlock had to suppress a shiver. Her voice was like velvet and chimes.

"But-"

"No 'but's; you snooze you lose," she interrupted before moving on.

Sherlock straightened and watched her leave. _Why the nerv_e, he humphed, and went about picking up the other things on his list. He'd just get John to pick up more milk tomorrow. He made his way to the check-out line, standing behind a young couple.

_Serial cheater and gold digger, _he thought, shaking his head.

He shifted the basket to his other arm and whistled under his breath waiting.

"Beethoven. The perfect choice for waiting in line at the grocer," an amused voice commented.

Sherlock looked over his shoulder and saw the milk girl.

"You know Beethoven?" He asked, eying her critically.

She nodded. "I much rather prefer Tchaikovsky myself, but Beethoven isn't so bad. I play the cello by the way."

"Violin," he replied.

"Another strings fan. Interesting," she smiled.

The grocer clerk cleared her throat and Sherlock set his grocery's on the counter. The conversation seemed to end there, however Sherlock couldn't help but wait for her outside.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you were going to follow me," she teased.

"Nonsense. This isn't the proper way to stalk someone," he replied. "Obviously."

They walked down the street conversing about their favorite classical pieces while also getting into a few heated debates. They came to a stop at an old ivy covered building.

"This is where I must bid you goodnight," she said. "Maybe we'll see each other again sometime."

Sherlock nodded. "I would find that pleasant."

Her smile widened. "Excellent."

Sherlock watched her go inside the apartments and then cursed his own stupidity. He forgot to ask her for her name. He scowled and made his way home where he found John reclining on the couch reading.

"Did you go by the grocer?" He asked, looking up as Sherlock walked inside.

"Yes. I was bored. We still need milk by the way," Sherlock answered setting the bags on the table. "How was Sarah?"

"Good. She got called away on an emergency," John answered stretching as he stood. He padded over to the kitchen table and started rooting through the grocery bags.

Sherlock remained neutral, though he was giving John his sympathy. _Poor John, _he thought. _Seems he would always be second to her. Sarah doesn't deserve John in the slightest._ He helped John put the groceries away before heading off to his room. For once, he was feeling rather sleepy.

John Watson was not a fan of suits. He found them claustrophobic. If he was honest with himself, he couldn't even remember the last time he had worn one. He smoothed down the fabric one last time before making his way to the living room.

"Sherlock? Are you dressed yet? We're going to be late,!" He called to his flat mate.

"I still do not understand why we are going to dinner with Mycroft and Lestrade," the flat mate grumbled as he stepped into the living room.

John rolled his eyes. "Because it is polite, Sherlock. We talked about this."

Sherlock muttered under his breath as he went to the mirror over the mantle and fixed his tie. His suit was a black color accompanied by a mahogany silk shirt and a black tie. He nodded to himself approvingly and turned to face John who was fiddling with his own tie.

The doctor was wearing a deep blue suit with a white button up and a deep blue tie. It was a bit of a snug fit on him, but it looked nice. It showed more of the muscle of his biceps and mid-section.

John turned around and sighed. "Where are your cuff links?"

"They don't go with this suit," He answered zoning back into the present. "They're silver. Silver does not go with mahogany."

"I got them specifically to go with the shirt. Do you need help putting them on again?" John asked.

"I do not need help with anything. I am capable of putting on cuff links," Sherlock answered disappearing into his room. He came back moments later, cuff links in hand and a determined look on his face.

John watched in amusement as Sherlock tried and failed to attach the silver cuff links. John shook his head and held out his hand. Sherlock, reluctantly, gave the man the cuff links and he fastened them.

"Come on. The car Mycroft sent should be here by now," John said looking at his watch.

"Will there be alcohol?" Sherlock asked following the doctor downstairs.

"I would think so," John answered. "Why?"

"I intend to get drunk," Sherlock stated. He pulled on his coat and tied his scarf. "If I must spend night being civil with my brother, I do not want to remember it."

John rolled his eyes suppressing another chuckle.

"We're off Mrs. Hudson. We shall be late returning," hHe called to their landlady. "Enjoy your evening."

"You two have fun. Don't get into any trouble," She replied poking her head out of her flat. She smiled and waved at the two as they stepped into the crisp autumn air.

"Goodnight Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock called, shutting the door.

They approached the sleek black town car and the driver held the door for them as they got in. John leaned back in his seat, fingers nervously tapping his knee.

"At least try to behave," John said turning to look at him.

"I'm not a child John," Sherlock scoffed.

"Never said you were," John replied.

"But you were thinking it," Sherlock pointed out smirking.

John shook his head. "Think what you want to think Sherlock."

"I always do," the young man replied, turning to look out the window.

"John, Sherlock, so glad you could make it," Mycroft said as the two approached.

"John said it was good manners," Sherlock shrugged. "I must say, this place isn't a bad choice for dinner."

"Greg picked it out," Mycroft replied.

"Who's Greg?" Sherlock asked.

"Lestrade. Greg's his first name remember," John answered.

"Oh," Sherlock said. "I deleted that information. It's not important."

"He is waiting for us at the table," Mycroft told them. "The suit looks rather nice on you John. Is it new?"

"This? No, I've had it for a few years," John replied as they followed the elder Holmes to a table closer to the front.

Lestrade smiled and stood up to greet them as they got to the table. He wore on a black suit. It was new and Sherlock noticed it was new. It consisted of had a white dress shirt and a charcoal gray tie. He was clean shaven and his hair was combed nicely. Sherlock couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the DI before taking his seat.

"You've made it just in time. I think the entertainment is about to start," Lestrade told them as they took their seats. "I hear she's rather good."

"She?" Sherlock asked. "I thought places like this only have live bands."

"They can have singers too. Granted it's no one really famous, just someone with a nice face and a nicer voice to go with it." Lestrade explained.

Sherlock nodded.

"Good evening gentleman. Is there anything I can get you to drink?" The waitress asked as she came up to them.

"A glass of Cognac for me," Mycroft told her.

"Same for me," Lestrade added in.

"I'll have a whiskey on the rocks," John answered with a smile.

"Long day?" Lestrade asked.

"Very," John chuckled.

"Your strongest scotch," Sherlock said picking up his menu. "I plan to get very drunk tonight."

John kicked Sherlock's ankle under the table and shot him a warning glare. Sherlock refrained from rolling his eyes and sank a bit lower in his seat.

"Do try to act your age," Mycroft sighed. "We are in public after all."

"Fine," Sherlock muttered. "But I'm still going to get drunk."

The waitress returned with their drinks just as the lights began to dim slightly. Sherlock sat up in his seat and watched as a young woman walked onto the stage.

Floor length emerald green dress, gold rings and bracelets, on her fingers and arm, and her dark brown hair done up in a mass of braids. Her eyes were just a little brighter than the dress with a slight glow to them; the young woman from Tesco's.

The orchestra behind her began to play and she began to sing.

_I know he didn't come to me  
No one, no one  
You can't care, if he's just strung out here  
Just because I am more single than anyone  
It doesn't mean that I was searching for a perfect pair_

Her graze found Sherlock's and her smile seemed to widen as she gripped the microphone, keeping a steady stare locked to his eyes.

"She's got a voice on her," Lestrade whispered.

"Shhh!" Sherlock snapped, turning his attention back to her.

John and Lestrade looked at the consultant amused.

_I just want to have a good time  
Can't I have fun for the rest of my life  
Just go where the wind blows  
Here he comes, yeah he caught my eye  
And we made love to the moonlight  
Just go where the wind blows_

Sherlock watched her intently. The way her hips moved with the dress and, how it moved with her. The way the lyrics almost floated out of her mouth. It almost took him a full minute to realize she had finished and was taking a bow as many of the occupants of the restaurant were applauding.

"Where are you going?" John asked as Sherlock stood.

"To the bathroom, John," Sherlock answered. "Obviously."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Sherlock leaned against the back wall of the stage exit and waited patiently before she stepped down. She smiled at him.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you're spying on me," Tanis teased lightly.

"Hey, you're not supposed to be back here," a waiter said as he came up to them. "Is he bothering you, Tanis?"

"No it's alright. He's my boyfriend," she lied easily. "Don't be rude love."

"Right. Sherlock Holmes," he said holding out his hand. "I was told it'd be alright to wait for her here."

The guy eyed him cautiously before nodding.

"Alright." He shot Sherlock one last glance before walking to the restaurant kitchen.

"Come on," she said taking his hand.

It was a bit rough and dry. He was led to a small dressing room and promptly eased down into a chair while sh-Tanis- undid her braid.

"So Mr. Holmes. Are you stalking me?" she asked turning to face him.

"No…it's merely coincidence," Sherlock answered. "How was I supposed to know you worked here?."

"Actually,. I don't. Favor for a friend," she corrected. "I'm actually a photographer."

"Photography?" Sherlock asked. "But your voice is so-"

"Enchanting I know," she interrupted, frowning,. "I get that a lot. Mother was a siren and well, you can imagine all the family caroling can't you?" She took the seat opposite him and moved to place her foot in his lap. "Be a dear, these heels are murdering my feet."

Sherlock obliged and she switched feet and he repeated the process.

"Shape shifter am I right?" she asked tilting her head to one side.

"Shape shifter and an empath," he answered.

"You poor dear," she replied. "Must be torture."

"Emotions are useless things," he stated. "They are pointless really."

Sherlock's phone beeped in his pocket and he frowned before he broke into a grin.

"Ah, I must go. There's been a bombing."

"Will you come back later? Say ten? We can grab a late coffee," she offered. "Talk more about music."

He nodded. "Ten."

She smiled again. "See you then Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock sent a quick text back to Lestrade, not paying attention, and bumped into someone.

"Sorry," they apologized.

Sherlock scowled.

"Just watch where you're going next time," he called after them. He vaguely heard a door shut as he ducked back into the restaurant area.

"Didn't know it took a half hour to go to the loo," John said as they followed Lestrade out. "We were about to send a search party."

"Oh, ha ha," Sherlock mocked. "Time spent making jokes could be spent going to see what the explosion is all about."

John rolled his eyes as Sherlock got a taxi. "Guess we have to work on your sense of humor."

* * *

_That's the phone— the pink phone.  
What from A Study in Pink?_

_Well obviously it' s not the same phone. But it's supposed to look like— "A Study in Pink"? You read his blog?  
Of course I read his blog. We all do _

Sherlock frowned before turning his attention back to the phone. He slid his finger across to unlock the screen and pressed 'messages'.

_You have one unheard message. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

A picture of a pair of shoes appeared on the screen and Sherlock turned the phone sideways, enlarging the picture. His eyes flew across the screen.

"John - follow me," the consultant announced as he left the office.

"Why? What was that all about?" John asked.

"It was a countdown John," Sherlock answered.

"For what?"

"Boom." Sherlock illustrated an explosion with his hands.

"I've seen that flat before. Mrs. Hudson showed it to me," Sherlock explained as the doctor followed him outside. "He's sending us a message John."

He suddenly whirled around and grabbed John by the shoulders, with a large grin on his face. "Oh it's like Christmas morning John!"

They caught the first empty cab they could and Sherlock was practically bouncing in his seat all the way to the flat. He was out of the cab before it had even come to a halt. John paid the cabbie and followed after his overly excited roommate into the flat.

"Mrs. Hudson, could we see the downstairs flat?" Sherlock asked the land lady.

"Of course dear. I'm still trying to rent it out," Mrs. Hudson sighed as she unlocked the door. "Perhaps you boys could fix it up for me - to make up for all the holes in the wall."

"We'd be happy too Mrs. Hudson," John smiled.

Sherlock took the keys, and unlocked the door to the basemen flat and wrinkled his nose as he stepped inside. It smelled of mildew and rotting wood. And in the center of the room was a pair of retro-style new shoes.

"Has anyone else been here?" John asked.

"No, no -, I always keep the keys with me," Mrs. Hudson answered.

Sherlock circled the shoes before bending down to get a closer look. "John, I'll need a pair of gloves and a large plastic bag."

* * *

"Oh…oh he's good," Sherlock breathed as he looked up from his microscope. "Carl Powers."

"Who?" John asked.

"Carl Powers. He was my beginning," Sherlock answered. "He was at a swim meet and he had a fit in the water. Dead before the life guards were able to save him. They thought it was a seizure,… but there was something off about it."

"Off?" John repeated.

Sherlock nodded. "His shoes. They weren't there. The rest of his clothes were in his locker but his shoes weren't there. I tried to get the police interested but no one would listen to a kid, of course."

"Did you ever figure out what it was that killed him?" John asked.

"No. I was still a child really. Couldn't sneak into the crime scene,," Sherlock shrugged as he looked back at the microscope. "Hand me my phone will you?"

"Where is it?" John asked.

"My coat pocket," Sherlock answered.

John rolled his eyes but walked over and reached into the consultants coat pocket. "It's not there."

"The inside coat pocket, John," Sherlock stated.

John made a noise of annoyance and went to reach into the pocket.

"The right side," Sherlock added irritably.

John reached across, dug his hand into the pocket and pulled out the consultant's phone and set it on the counter. "There."

"You didn't have to be so forceful," Sherlock frowned. "However attractive you may think it is."

John pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Have you found anything yet?" Molly asked as she stepped into the lab. She was followed by a young man.

"Yes. The computer came up with a result nearly ten minutes ago," Sherlock answered.

"Oh uh, this is Jim. He works in IT upstairs," Molly smiled. "Jim this is Sherlock and um-"

"Dr. John Watson, nice to meet you," John replied. "Don't be rude Sherlock."

"Molly's told me so much about you," Jim said as he walked over. "Are you, uh, working on a case?"

"A bombing, yes," Sherlock answered off offhandedly.

It was silent for a moment after that. Jim shifted awkwardly.

"Uh right. Well uh I guess I should-"

Empty petri dishes fell to the floor as he moved his arm off the counter. and Hhe quickly bent down to pick them up. "Sorry about that. Uh right. I'll just be going."

He gave Molly a quick kiss and shot another smile in Sherlock's direction. "It was nice meeting you."

Sherlock continued looking at the sample in the microscope.

"Same," John finally answered.

"Gay," Sherlock announced once the door was closed.

"What? He's not gay," Molly replied.

"I'm afraid so," Sherlock stated. "He is gay."

"No he's not," Molly repeated before she left.

"That wasn't very nice... But it was true and Carl Powers was poisoned. There are traces of botulism via his eczema medication. He applied a cream to his feet, and that's why his shoes were taken," Sherlock stated matter of fact as he typed it up on the computer next to him. "Now if you'll excuse me. There is someplace I need to be."

He handed John the pink phone. "The victim will call you and tell you were she is. then tell Lestrade. Don't wait up."

John watched as his flat mate strode out of the lab and shook his head. He was never going to understand Sherlock Holmes at all.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

Sherlock looked at his watch as he paced outside. _She said she'd meet me here as soon as she got off._ _Precisely ten o'clock and it is now_, he checked his watch again, _ten fifteen_. He frowned and waited five more minutes before going back inside.

He knew John and Lestrade found the bomber's victim. John had texted him and let him know that she was safe, though in shock. Sherlock merely rolled his eyes but never the less sent a quick reply text that he would be back to the flat late.

Another look at his watch, _ten twenty-five_. H_, _he frowned and made his way into the restaurant through the front. He scanned the room and his eyes locked on the waiter from earlier.

"You," Sherlock said pointing a finger at him. He beckoned him over. "Have you seen Tanis?'

"Not since she was with you," the guy answered. "She might've already left. Sorry mate."

"If you're looking for the new girl, she's in the bathroom or something," a blond waitress spat out. "She's been in there for ages."

Sherlock nodded and made his way to the bathrooms, barging into the woman's. He found her curled up in the corner, shaking. He approached her and crouched to his knees, tilting her chin up to look at him. He used his free hand to check her pulse.

"Sweating, quickened pulse, difficulty breathing-"

She pulled herself away going into one of the stalls and vomited.

"Vomiting." He finished.

She staggered out of the stall and Sherlock caught her before she fell.

"Obvious withdrawal," he stated taking off his coat and wrapping it around her. "Luckily, I know a great doctor."

She shivered and curled into him as he lifted her up.

* * *

"Sherlock, what on earth is that noise?" John growled as he came downstairs. He stopped. "What are you doing?"

Sherlock looked up from where he sat in front of a locked door reading. "There is a siren- vetala hybrid in there suffering from demon blood withdrawal. Highly addictive stuff to them."

"So you locked it in the bathroom?" John asked slowly.

"Not an 'it' John, a 'her'. Her name is Tanis," Sherlock answered. "I apologize for the noise but she seems quite angry with me. The first stages are always the worst."

"You don't lock someone in a bathroom, Sherlock," John sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. "No matter what…"

"Have you ever gone through withdrawal John?" Sherlock asked closing his book. The doctor remained silent. "I didn't think so."

The noise in the bathroom turned into whimpers and sobbed apologies and quiet begging. John shifted before going into the kitchen to make tea. Sherlock stood and moved the chair from under the door knob and tapped softly on the wood.

"I'm going to come in now. If you attack me again, I will lock the door," he told her.

He twisted the door knob and the door opened slowly. She was huddled in the bathtub in one of Sherlock's old shirts and pajama bottoms. He walked over and held out his hand which she eyed cautiously.

"I'm sorry for locking you in the bathroom, but, in my defense, you did try to bite me," he said,. "Now come on. You need to eat something."

"I'm sorry," she murmured accepting his hand.

As soon as she stepped out of the tub she clung to his arm.

"Now you're going to meet that doctor I told you about. Try not to attack him as well."

She nodded mutely and let him lead her out of the bathroom.

"John. Meet Tan-"

The mug in John's hand practically shattered as it slipped out of the man's hand. Sherlock had never seen the man move so fast in the amount of time he'd known the doctor. One minute, he was staring almost blankly at Tanis, and the next he was pulling her into a bone crushing hug.

Sherlock watched the scene before him noting how Tanis went from clinging to Sherlock's arm to nearly latching herself directly to John. He was murmuring something to her but Sherlock couldn't hear.

"You know each other?" Sherlock finally asked.

John nodded. "We met while I was in Europe one summer, after I was…" He trailed off shaking his head.

He kept his arm around her as he maneuvered her to the couch, broken tea mug forgotten.

"You didn't say anything though when,… At dinner I mean,…" Sherlock pointed out.

"I didn't realize it was her - w. Was too busy trying to figure out why you were so intrigued by the singer on stage," John answered.

He hugged her again. He spoke English this time as he whispered soothing things to her. "Run a bath for her. She reeks of _Him,_" John nearly spat out the pronoun. "Please Sherlock."

Sherlock nodded and did as he was told. His mind was going a hundred miles an hour processing this new information.

"The bath's ready," Sherlock announced as he came back to the living room. "Fresh towels and all."

Tanis, reluctantly, disentangled herself from John and went into the bathroom leaving the door open just a crack. Sherlock took the vacant seat next to John and stared at him.

"I was in Norway," John started. "It was a few months after I was-"

"Turned into a vampire," Sherlock interrupted.

"It's not polite to interrupt people, but yes. It had been a few weeks since I had fed and I was going to near insanity trying to find some poor soul. Everyone was locked inside afraid of this serial killer that was going around. 1Serpent drapsmann, serpent killer-"

"Why that?" Sherlock asked.

John rolled his eyes at the interruption. "Because it looked like snake bite puncture wounds and all the victims had been paralyzed with poisonous snake venom. And not to mention it was the early 1930 's. It was the depression, people weren't too creative anymore."

"I thought you said you were changed in the early 2000's," Sherlock frowned.

"That's not the point," John replied. "Do you want to listen or not?"

"Yes,. I want to hear this," the consultant answered.

"Then shut up," John teased lightly. "As I was saying, I was out after going to the bar, not nearly as drunk as I wanted to be, trying to hunt down a wolf in the woods when I smelled blood. Lots of it, and fresh. I followed the scent and found a campsite where I saw her."

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but stopped.

"I can remember what she was wearing clear as day. She wore a white thin sweater with a pair of black jeans and red thigh high boots with a short heel. Hair pulled back into a bun with a few stray curls, her eyes like glowing orbs and her skin was a milk chocolate color. Despite all the blood she was as clean as a new whistle," John sighed.

He had a wistful smile on his face even though his eyes were a bit darker. "She was feeding off of one of the campers when she saw me. Her eyes had narrowed as she got up. I was frozen to the spot. I figured she was the one committing all of the murders then and there. I had never been so scared in my life, and I was a vampire,-"

"You were scared?" Sherlock asked in disbelief.

"Tanis can be rather intimidating when she's in the feeding mood. Very territorial," John replied. "She stalked right up to me and my stomach growled."

"Your stomach growled?" Sherlock asked slowly.

"I had gone a month without feeding. I was hungry and the scent of blood was in the air. It was silent for five minutes before she turned her back on me walked over to the camper she had been feeding off of. 'There's enough for two' she had said. Her voice was like soft velvet. I dropped to my knees in front of the first camper I laid eyes on and drank. I knew she was watching me. I could feel her eyes on my back. 'Someone was hungry.' She was teasing then. We had both finished drinking. I kissed her. She tasted like blood and spices."

Here John stopped.

"What?" Sherlock asked. "Why'd you stop?"

"It's for another time, okay yeah?" John said as he stood up. He grabbed a rag and began to clean up the mess.

"Right. I shall go and check on Tanis then," Sherlock told him making his way to the bathroom. He knocked on the bathroom door. "Everything alright in there."

"Yes. You can come in you know," she answered. "I'm dressed."

Sherlock stepped into the bathroom and found her perched on the edge of the tub dressed once again in the clothes he had lent her. Her hair was still damp.

"Are you hungry?" he asked breaking the silence. "I think John went to the market."

"Food sounds good," she answered getting up.

"Sherlock stop leaving severed heads in the freezer," John sighed.

"You keep heads in the freezer?" Tanis asked.

"It's an experiment," Sherlock defended.

"It's always an experiment…," John replied, rolling his eyes.

Tanis hid a laugh with a cough. "Will there be wedding bells in the future?"

John blushed. "Ah no. We're not, I'm not,-"

Tanis shook her head. "It was a joke John. My, how the army's changed you."

The pink cased phone on the coffee table beeped and Sherlock reached for it. "It's the Thames," he said, handing John the phone.

"You think it's the bomber?" John asked turning on the kettle.

"Not sure," Sherlock answered already starting to pull on his coat. "You coming John?"

"Can I tag along?" Tanis asked. "I won't get in the way…It's just, I'll go crazy if I'm left alone with my thoughts."

"Alright," Sherlock answered. "I mean...If it's okay with John."

Tanis looked over at John. "Please, Johnny!. I'll stay out of the way."

"Fine, fine," John said. "Just let me change."

Tanis sent him a grin. "Can I borrow a jumper?"

"Come on then," John shook his head.

She smiled and wrapped her arm around his. Sherlock watched them leave the room and he began to make more mental notes. He'd have to talk John about this later. They returned ten minutes later.

Tanis wearing John's favorite tan jumper and a pair of his old jeans. _Odd. John never letts his favorite jumper out of his sight, let alone let or anyone wearer it. Not even Sarah.…_

"I've forgotten how cozy and warm this one is," Tanis smiled.

"Just don't get it ruined," John replied pulling on his coat. "You ready Sherlock?"

"Obviously," the consultant answered.

"Is he always so…" Tanis trailed off casting a glance in Sherlock's direction.

"You get used to it," John answered as he locked the door behind them.

* * *

A/N 1 Serpent Killer; Norwegian


	6. Chapter 6

"Freaks here," Sergeant Sally Donavon announced as Sherlock stepped up to the crime scene tape. "Who said you could come?"

"I was invited," Sherlock retorted. "Honestly, must we go through this every time? You call me Freak, I point out that you and Anderson have been shagging, and then I go see the main reason we are all here. Does it not tire you constantly?"

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Freak."

John and Tanis caught up with Sherlock. Tanis remained latched onto the doctor's arm, not that John seemed to mind.

"Who's this?" Sally asked motioning to her.

"She's with me," Sherlock answered lifting up the yellow tap as Tanis and John ducked under it.

"What? You got yourself a girlfriend, now, have you?" Sally teased. "What're you doin' hanging around this git? I thought you American girls were smarter than that."

John shook his head. _Here we go, _he thought bracing himself for the verbal slaughter.

"What's wrong with being with Sherlock?" She asked letting go of John's arm.

Sally opened her mouth to speak but Tanis cut in.

"Oh, I see, you're attracted to him aren't you? Asked him out for drinks and he turned you down flat, didn't he? So you resorted to sleeping with your co-worker, even though it's an obvious fact that he's married, and you're taking your frustration out on a very brilliant man."

"That's not-"

"It's not polite to interrupt, _Sally. _Very poor manners. I would've thought you of all people would know that, seeing as we're both woman. It's our job to pick up slack and be courteous when speaking to people who are willing to help us, even though they are in fact doing it for free. You're a member of the police force, so do try to at least act like it."

"But he is a Freak," Sally edged in.

A few members of the crowd spoke up in agreement.

John hung back, content to watch the scene develop on its own. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed watching Tanis tear someone up.

"If he's a freak, why does John hang around him?" She asked. "John is a perfect example of a normal human being."

"Dr. Watson is a soldier. There is a difference. He has PTSD." Sally retorted almost smugly.

_Oooh, bad move,_ John thought.

Tanis's eyes narrowed, almost turning to slits and venom seeped into her voice.

"Dr. John Hamish Watson fought for your country to keep you safe. You will do well to speak of him with respect. As for Sherlock, he shouldn't even be wasting his valuable time helping you lot, seeing as you're the police force but no, most of you are too thick skulled and small minded to do your job. Sherlock is a brilliant, attractive male, far more superior than the lot of you. You'll do well to remember that too. Am I clear?"

"But-"

"You just don't stop do you?" Tanis interrupted.

Tanis shook her head before grabbing the lapels of Sherlock's coat and smashing her mouth against the consulting detective' , pressing herself against him. Sherlock reacted accordingly, placing his hands on her waist and kissing back forcefully.

John shifted and cleared his throat. "There is a dead body we need to look at."

The two remained snogging. Sally's eyebrows shot up and she sputtered. Tanis pulled back with a satisfied grin before turning back to Sally.

"I eat people like you for breakfast," She smiled before pressing a chaste kiss to Sherlock's lips.

"Right. Dead bottom," Sherlock announced as he whirled around and headed for the direction of said bottom.

"Isn't he just darling?" Tanis chimed as she and John followed after.

"I think you broke her," John whispered.

"She deserved it," Tanis replied. "I haven't done that in ages. I forgot how much of a rush that gives me."

John only shook his head and refrained from smiling.

"Ah, DI Dimmick. No Lestrade?" Sherlock asked.

"He's on a holiday," Dr. Dimmick answered.

"Right… John, what do you make of this?" Sherlock asked from where he examined the body.

John knelt down beside Sherlock and carefully looked the body over.

"He's been dead at least twenty four hours," He said. "Wasn't killed here either. His body was dumped. Bruises along the mouth and neck. It looks like he's been strangled. He's been in the water too long to really tell anything else."

Tanis peered over John's shoulder. "Looks like a hit."

"Sorry, who's this?" Dimmick asked pointing to Tanis.

"Tanis Montgomery," She smiled, holding out her hand. "I was sent here by your supervisor to make sure everything went smoothly. He's a rather large fan of Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson. You can call him if you like. He owes me money."

"I wasn't aware of-"

"Very hush hush. Wouldn't want to alert the others, would we?" She interrupted.

"No. Of course not," Dimmick replied. She gave him a grin.

"She's right John. Looks like the work of Golem," Sherlock spoke up as he stood.

"It doesn't look like a hit," Dimmick pointed out.

"Well it is," Sherlock replied. "The Golem squeezes the life out of his victims with his bare hands. Find me everything you can on this man. We have a painting to look at."

"A painting?" Dimmick asked.

"Yes," Sherlock answered as he walked past the DI.

"Have I missed something?" The DI asked as the consultant walked away with the doctor and Supervisor.

"It was nice meeting you," Tanis smiled as she followed after John. "Bye Sally," she smiled at the sergeant. "Let's grab a dri-"

"No," John interrupted grabbing her arm and tugging her after him.

John stood in the doorway to the kitchen with one thought in his head. _I must be going mad. _Standing at a clean table next to Tanis was Sherlock. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and he was slicing pieces of steak.

"It's not polite to stare Johnny," Tanis smiled from her spot next to Sherlock. She was chopping peppers with perfect precision. "You should know better."

"Right, um, sorry," he said shaking his head and walking into the kitchen. He reached for a mug that was presented before him.

"It's not O negative but I was able to drain most of the blood off of the steaks for you."

"Thank you, I was just about to drink the last blood packet," John smiled.

"The painting is a fake by the way," Sherlock announced as he bushed the pieces of steak into a bowl of flour.

"What painting?" John asked taking a sip of the blood. He grimaced – cold.

"The Vermeer painting obviously," Sherlock replied as the doctor walked to the microwave. "Tanis and I took the liberty of stopping by the art gallery where it is to be presented and took a look on our way to Tesco's," Sherlock explained.

"You went to Tesco's?" John asked.

"I was forced against my will," the detective answered.

"I merely promised him a batch of brownies if he behaved," Tanis smiled. "That's all."

"They had better be worth it," Sherlock muttered.

"Oh, they are," John said. "I would not be here today if it weren't for Tanis's brownies. Figuratively of course."

John finished off the rest of the blood before setting the cup in the sink. "I'm off to the surgery. Save me some food, yeah?"

"Course Johnny," Tanis replied pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Save lives."

"I try," John called as he left.

"John acts different when he's around you," Sherlock stated matter of fact. "He's more relaxed, lets his guard down."

"We're both monsters in this world, John and I," She mused. "We...gravitate towards each other, you could say. Did he tell you how we met?"

Sherlock nodded. "To a point yes."

"Whenever my addiction to Him is over I tend to go stir crazy. The American Ripper or Serpent killer, my personal favorite are just a few of the names they deem my little escapades," She told him. "John doesn't like to speak of it much and I respect that. He and I killed a lot together after we first met. Enough was never enough. I remember one night after, we were lying in bed in blood stained clothes still coming down from our high and he started crying."

Sherlock watched as she looked down at the knife in her hand.

"He was the first to call us monsters. We argued, we fought, we made love; we nearly tore each other's throats out that night."

"What happened?" Sherlock asked. She snapped out of her thoughts and shook her head.

"We made a pact to stop killing. He went off to the army and I went back to Him." She answered, cutting an onion. "Put the steak in a pan will you? Sprinkle some salt and pepper over it."

Sherlock nodded and did as he was told.

"Your brother tried to kidnap me you know," She said as she started peeling lettuce. "Wanted me to spy on you."

"Did you except the money? We could split it." Sherlock replied.

"How do you think I bought these puppies?" She asked motioning to her boots. "I got them the night we first met."

"Women and their shoes," Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Mycroft's picking up his game…"

"Now be a good boy and clear off the table. I'll start the brownies," She replied drying her hands off.

He nodded, setting the dirty dishes into the sink and running hot water.

"That was quite a nice thing you did earlier...with Sally," Sherlock commented as he washed the dishes.

"Doesn't it bother you, the name calling?" She asked.

"Sometimes. Not so much now that John's been accompanying me. He's pulled a rank on them before," Sherlock answered. "But thank you for that. It felt satisfying to watch Sally sputter like a fish out of water."

"It's been awhile since I've torn someone apart word wise. It felt refreshing."

"Hmm… now if only you could do that to Mycroft…" Sherlock mused.

The two shared a laugh and smiled.

"I don't think John would appreciate that," She smiled.

Sherlock hummed as a response. "You mentioned you were part siren as well."

"My father's side of the family," She answered. "He and my mother didn't get along too well. She left us when I was still little."

Sherlock nodded. "Sorry for you loss."

"Hmm? Oh, no, she's not dead. I meant that she left us and married some other man when I was little," She clarified.

"Doesn't it still apply?" He asked.

"Not really. Usually you say that when someone's died," She answered. "Don't worry, we'll work on teaching you proper manners."

"I happen to have rather great manners," he scoffed.

She patted his cheek as she placed the cutting board in the sink. "Of course you do dear."

He frowned and humphed as he continued to wash the dishes.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Let's try this again huh?" Tanis asked from her spot on the couch. "Something easy like a cat. Yeah one of those long haired cats."

"I don't do animals," Sherlock replied. "And I do not do cats."

She frowned. "What about reptiles?"

"No animals. People. I can do people," He said.

"Fine, fine. Green hair, green and tan skin," She replied leaning back on the couch. She was borrowing a pair of Sherlock's silk blue pajama bottoms and one of John's old army t-shirts.

Sherlock wrinkled his nose. "Blond hair, green eyes and tan skin."

She shook her head. "I don't like blondes. How about mahogany red hair and teal eyes with pale skin and freckles?"

Sherlock nodded. "Alright. That's doable."

The consultant leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, concentrating. Tanis watched as Sherlock's hair started to turn a lighter red and his skin started tanning and when his eyes opened they were a teal green color.

"Alright. Up you get," She said, standing.

"I really do not see the point in all this," Sherlock replied as he stood up.

"You said you were bored," She pointed out. "You did solve the last case in what? Six hours?"

"But I don't see how this is helping to alleviate my boredom," Sherlock replied.

"It's helping your boredom because it's helping my boredom," She smiled. "Now I'm thinking more of a straighter jaw with a smaller nose."

"At least you know what you are talking about," He muttered but did as was told.

Tanis circled the detective looking him over critically before nodding. "Perfect."

"What was this for again?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"I'm filling in for a friend this evening. She has a big party coming to her restaurant and I don't trust her waiters. Small minded people who do half assed jobs," She answered with a shrug.

"Why not ask John then?" Sherlock asked.

"Ask me what?" John asked walking into the flat. He hung up his coat and made his way to the kitchen.

"Oh nothing. I'm just having Sherlock fill in as a waiter," She answered dismissively.

"Ah. Filling in for Delilah again?" John asked putting the kettle on.

"She's got the flu," She answered. "What do you think of this look?"

John looked up and took in Sherlock's appearance. He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "I'd go with lighter red for the hair. Other than that he looks rather nice."

"_He _is standing right here," Sherlock muttered.

"You should come John. You could be my date," She smiled.

"Can't. Already have one," John answered shrugging. "Sorry."

"That's three nights this week alone," She pointed out.

"Her name is Sarah," Sherlock supplied. "And it's date night."

"Date night? Really?" Tanis asked raising an eyebrow. "Must be some lady if she's got John on a date night schedule."

"She's the nurse he works with," Sherlock answered.

"I can speak for myself," John replied. "And she's a nice young woman."

"And she's human," Sherlock added, picking up his violin. "Not much of a fan of her though."

John rolled his eyes as the kettle began to whistle.

"Why not bring her by the restaurant then, hmm? Or the house," Tanis commented as she handed Sherlock a change of clothes. "I'll be on my best behavior."

"No. Absolutely not," John said sharply looking at her over his shoulder, "Under no circumstances are you going to meet her."

"Why not?" She asked. "I just want to meet her. I won't do anything else."

"That's what you said about Heather," John replied. "And where is Heather now?"

"In a wheel chair," Tanis mumbled. "But it was an accident!"

"You paralyzed her Tanis," John pointed out.

"She snuck up on me… it's not like I have super hearing," She replied, "Please Johnny? I'll be on my best behavior and I'll leave you two alone."

John sighed. "Alright fine. We'll have dinner there. But one mishap and we leave."

She grinned and kissed his cheek. "Wonderful. I'll reserve a table for you at seven. Now I have to go back to my place and change. Sherlock, I'll be expecting you at six, dressed and ready."

She threw a good bye over her shoulder as she left the front door closing behind her.

"I feel like this is a very bad idea," John muttered as he stood up. "You're not going to interfere are you?"

"Of course not. Tanis says I'm to be on a tight leash tonight," The detective answered. "Whatever that means."

John smiled. "She must really like you Sherlock."

"Why do you say that?" Sherlock asked.

"She doesn't get along with too many people. They find her too optimistic most of the time, too happy and cheery. I find it refreshing. She always see's the bright side to things no matter what," John explained. "And she's taken you like a fish to water. I don't think I've ever seen her so relaxed around someone."

"She's relaxed around you," Sherlock pointed out.

"All I'm saying is I think she likes you Sherlock. And if you like her too, which might be a possibility, I think you guys would work well for each other," John shrugged.

"So what? Are you giving me your blessing or something?" Sherlock asked.

John rolled his eyes. "Just think about it, yeah?"

The doctor turned and made his way upstairs, the bedroom door shutting behind him. Sherlock watched him leave, albeit a tad confused, but shook the thought away. He had to get dressed and get to the restaurant or Tanis would be cross. Not that he cared of course.

* * *

"This is a nice place," Sarah smiled, "But I don't understand why we had to come all the way out here."

"A friend told me about it. Said they had really great Italian," John replied. "It's also quiet and romantic, yes?"

Sarah nodded and smiled again. "It's perfect."

The hostess led them to a table and set the menus on the table.

"Your waiter will be here shortly," She told them.

John thanked her and picked up his menu.

"Good evening. My name is Daniel and I will be your waiter for this evening. Our house wine tonight is a Corvina. Very nice red wine," The man rattled off.

John looked up and almost did a double take. His eyes narrowed slightly as the waiter was in fact one consulting detective who had been practicing this look all morning.

"Mmm, that sounds nice. We'll have a glass of that and is it possible to leave the bottle?" Sarah asked.

"Of course miss," 'Daniel' smiled. "Would you like an appetizer to start?"

"Garlic bread please," Sarah answered.

"I'm sorry we are fresh out of garlic bread. I recommend the Pancetta Focaccia Twists," 'Daniel' replied. Sarah nodded. "I shall be back shorty with your wine."

She smiled as he left. "He seems nice."

"Oh yeah. Nice," John murmured looking over his menu. "I've told you I'm allergic to garlic right?"

"Oh I'm sorry, I must've forgotten," Sarah apologized reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.

"It's alright. I know it's not a common allergy," John replied. "Now have you decided on what you want to-"

"Johnny! You made it," A voice interrupted.

John soon found himself being hugged by an overly excited Tanis. She pulled back and straightened her top. A deep purple blouse pair with black dress pants and black, three inch heels. No scratch that, stiletto's.

"You must be Sarah. Johnny's told me a lot about you. You are so much prettier than your picture," Tanis greeted. "Tanis Montgomery, I am filling in for the restaurant manager for the night."

"Oh um…I'm sorry, John hasn't really spoken about you before," Sarah replied.

"We met awhile back before he was shipped off. We lost touch after that so it's no surprise," She explained.

She clapped her hands together and grinned. "Now don't worry about a thing tonight. It's on the house from the wine to the dessert. I have my best waiter on the job."

"That's very kind of you," Sarah replied.

"It's the least I could do for Johnny after all he's done for me," Tanis smiled. "You two enjoy yourselves."

"What does she mean all you've done for her?" Sarah asked once Tanis had left.

"She uh used to be an addict," He answered. "I was working at a clinic in Norway before I signed onto the military. She's rather eccentric, I know, but a very sweet girl."

"How old is she anyway?" Sarah asked.

"Twenty four," he answered.

"Here we are. Two glasses of Corvina and Pancetta Focaccia Twists," 'Daniel' said, placing the wine and food down. "Are you two ready to order?"

"Yes. I will have alfredo-fettuccini shrimp," Sarah answered closing her menu.

"And for you sir?" He asked.

"The house steak with a side of butter sauce linguini," John answered.

"And how would you like your steak?" The waiter asked.

"Medium rare," John answered.

'Daniel' nodded and collected the menu's. "Coming right up."

"Right. I'm going to go to the bathroom. Back in a jiff," John said as he got up.

Sarah nodded and sipped her wine as he walked away. John hung a left and waited for 'Daniel' to round the corner and pulled him into the men's room.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" He asked making sure the bathroom was empty.

"I'm working John… what does it look like I'm doing?" Sherlock answered. "You just happened to be seated in my section."

"Really?" John asked with sarcasm. "And it was no coincidence that Tanis decided to full on body hug me earlier not to mention wear her… never mind."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "No, do continue. Tell me John what is she wearing that has you so flushed?"

"I am not flushed," John muttered.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Sure. Now if you'll excuse me. I have orders to take."

John narrowed his eyes as he watched the consultant leave before washing his hands and heading back to his table. Tonight was going to be a long night.

* * *

John poured the last of the wine between the two glasses and Sarah smiled.

"I must say, tonight went rather smoothly. It was nice of your friend to let us stay after closing," Sarah commented as she sipped her wine. "And that dessert was so good."

"Why thank you. It's an old family recipe," Tanis said as she approached. She picked up the empty wine bottle and passed it off to a passing waiter.

"Evening everyone," Sherlock announced as he swept into the restaurant. He grabbed a chair and took a seat next John. He swiped the glass of wine from the doctor and downed the liquid.

"That was mine," John pointed out.

"I hadn't noticed," Sherlock shrugged, setting the empty glass down. "Can we leave now?"

"I'm on a date Sherlock," John reminded him.

"Dull," Sherlock muttered.

Tanis tugged on the detective's sleeve. "Come on, you can help me clean up in the back. It was nice meeting you Sarah."

Tanis led Sherlock to the restaurant's kitchen and sat him down on one of the stools.

"She's cheating on him you know," Sherlock mused, as Tanis moved about the kitchen cleaning. "It's really quite obvious."

"Coarse it's obvious," Tanis snorted. "John's always been a bit naïve you know."

Sherlock nodded. "Guess that's why woman find him so attractive."

Tanis nodded in agreement. "He's safe. Woman like safe."

"Clearly they've never seen John when he hasn't eaten in weeks," Sherlock mused.

"He's still going weeks at a time before he feeds again?" Tanis asked. "Good lord that man is stubborn."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I would ever put John and 'stubborn' in the same sentence."

"I would and do," Tanis replied drying her hands. "Come along Sher. We can share a cab, your treat."

Sherlock rolled his eyes but allowed her to wrap her arm around his and walk out. John and Sarah were already gone. Tanis locked up and he hailed a cab, letting her get in first and tell the cabbie her address.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Sherlock's eyes opened as the sound of a door slamming brought him out of his thoughts. Heavy loud foot falls could be heard on the stairs before the door to the flat opened and slammed. John was in a mood. The front door opened once more, closed lightly, before hurried foot falls and the door opened and closed with a click. Tanis was upset.

"No," John growled angrily. "I am in no mind to speak to you."

"John let me explain," Tanis pleaded.

Sherlock remained on the couch, they hadn't noticed him. John's eyes were dark, very dark, with tinges of red. His jaw was tense and he was clenching his fists. Tanis was standing with her arms crossed, eyes slightly narrowed in slits. She was seething quietly.

"Explain? You were bloody interrogating Sarah!" John shouted. "I told you to leave her alone and you go and bloody interrogate her!"

"I wasn't interrogating her," Tanis replied, remaining calm. "We were talking."

"Talking, yeah sure," John scoffed. "It didn't seem like talking."

"I was just asking some questions is all," Tanis said, shifting.

"You asked why she was cheating on me, Tanis. Cheating, of all things," John reminded her.

He was losing patience Sherlock noted.

"Because she is John. You're just too damn naïve to see it," Tanis bit back.

"Oh I'm naïve am I?" He asked voice steadily calm. "It's better than being starved for bloody attention by some sick, controlling bastard."

"Don't you dare," Tanis hissed. "This has nothing to do with Him."

John snorted. "You're already defending Him. How like you."

"You're on thin ice John. Don't test it," She hissed.

"Oooh, I'm so scared," John mocked. "Fuck your bloody thin ice. You know it's true. Even after he's beat you and left you for dead you still defend him. Tell me, how many times have you seen him lately? I may be naïve, but I'm not blind. You reek of his stench. It's disgusting."

Tanis's stance went for seething to pleading in a matter of seconds. "John, stop it, please."

"Stop what? Stop reminding you that he's left for you dead? Begging?" He asked. "He doesn't love you, Tanis. He never has and I honestly doubt he ever will. You are the one that chose Him. I may be naïve about something but at least I'm not the one getting pity-"

Sherlock blinked as a loud _smack _filled the air.

"Don't you ever say that again," She hissed.

John was silent.

"If you don't believe me when I tell you Sarah's cheating on you, then fine. Don't listen to me. I'm only someone who knows what that's like after all. If you're so desperate for sex that you're willing to turn a blind eye to something like that, then I won't stop you. But don't you ever, ever speak of my life like that again," She hissed turning to leave.

The door slammed behind her as she left. John seemed to finally realize Sherlock was watching. The doctor cleared his throat and went into the kitchen, turning the kettle on.

"I'm not sure what the correct protocol for this is," Sherlock said, breaking the silence.

"Do you consider Tanis a friend?" John asked.

"Yes," Sherlock answered nodding.

He could hear John pause before taking two mugs down.

"Then you choose a side in most cases," John said, handing Sherlock his tea.

"What happened then?" The detective asked.

John sighed and sat down in his chair. "Tanis or I apologize, go out for drinks and forget this ever happened and you call us idiots for arguing in the first place."

"I think you hurt her," Sherlock pointed out.

"I know…" John replied sipping his tea.

"She also crossed boundaries," Sherlock added.

"She doesn't have boundaries. Neither of us do when we argue," John shrugged. "It's always been like that. She meddles considerably, I point out how rude she was, she says I'm naïve or stupid or just plain blind to something and I bring Him up."

"Who is this 'Him'?" Sherlock asked.

"A sick bastard," John ground out.

Sherlock nodded and dropped the conversation.

* * *

John sighed for what seemed like the tenth time in the last half hour.

"Is everything alright doctor?" His patient asked.

"Hmm? Oh yes, everything's fine. I'm gonna need you to stay off your feet for a while, though, before the baby comes," He told her.

She nodded. "I'll try my best."

He smiled and led her out of the room.

"Who's next?" He asked the nurse at the desk.

"Um… Miss Wren," She answered.

"That'd be me."

John looked up and found Tanis walking over to the desk. She was nearly unrecognizable, if you didn't know her of course. She was wearing a blond wig with a red button up blouse and a blue jean, short skirt with a pair of four inch red strap heels.

"Right. This way please," John said. He may've felt guilty but he honestly didn't feel like seeing her at the moment.

She followed him into his office and he shut the door behind her. "What seems to be the problem?"

"I'm sorry John. I didn't mean to interrogate Sarah this morning," She said, taking a seat on the examination table. "Force of habit you know?"

He nodded and looked over the chart. She frowned and plucked the file from his hands, tossing it a bit haphazardly onto the table.

"What?" He asked. It came out rougher than he intended, and he started to apologize when Tanis hooked her leg around his and pulled him forward.

"You haven't fed," She stated. "That's very bad Johnny."

John swallowed. "Tanis don't. I'm with Sarah."

"I'm not doing anything," She replied innocently. "I'm just helping out a friend."

John tried to remove himself from her grip when her hand grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him flush against her.

"We don't want you to starve," She whispered, using her free hand to undo the first few buttons of her shirt. She turned her head giving him her throat. "Go ahead."

John didn't think, he just bit. He let out a groan and bit deeper, feeling the warm liquid seep into his mouth. His hand somehow found their way to her waist bunching up the fabric of her blouse. Compared to him, her skin felt like it was on fire. And damn if he wasn't a bit turned on by it.

She shifted and let out her own groan of approval as he happily lapped up the blood with his tongue. Her leg wrapped more snugly around his and he could feel the heel pressing into the back of his knee.

She let out a small whimper and pouted as he pulled back licking small drops of the red stuff off of his lips.

"I should be very angry with you," He said, not bothering to move.

"It's not my fault you're sexually deprived," She hummed. "A quickie never hurt anybody."

He snorted resting his forehead against hers. "It's still cheating."

"You're not married to her. So technically it wouldn't be considered cheating," She pointed out while at the same time she teasingly ground into his hips. He bit back a growl.

He knew she was right of course. She was like Sherlock in that aspect. She did it again and this time he couldn't help himself. Throwing caution to the wind he grabbed her by the hips and kissed her. It was a clash of fangs and teeth.

"You're terrible you know that," He whispered.

She gave him another innocent smile.

"I am going wipe that smile off you," He whispered into her ear dropping his voice down an octave.

She shivered. "I'd like to see you try."

* * *

"Where are you off to anyway?" John asked as Tanis straightened his tie.

"I'm going to meet Sherlock at the morgue. He needed a second opinion on something," She shrugged, "Something about bite marks."

"You are an expert on the matter," He replied.

She smiled and smoothed his coat down. "Sherlock wants you to meet us at Angelo's when you get off."

"Course he does," John sighed, "I'll see you two then."

She kissed his cheek before walking out of the room.

"What was she doing here?" Sarah asked walking into the room.

"She was apologizing for earlier," He answered, "Something wrong?"

"Hmm? Oh no, just wanted to see if you wanted to grab dinner after work," She smiled.

"I can't. I'm meeting Sherlock and Tanis at Angelo's later," he replied. "Sorry."

Sarah's smile faltered. "Tomorrow night then?"

He nodded. "Sounds great."

The door shut behind her as she left and he sighed. _I'm going to have to choose between them now aren't I? _he thought, pinching the bridge of his nose.

* * *

"Sherlock, I got your coffee like you…" Molly's voice died off upon finding Tanis sitting on the counter next to Sherlock. "Who's this?"

"I'm Tanis," She answered. "You must be Molly."

"Um yes… I'm not sure you're allowed to be here," Molly replied.

"Nonsense Molly. I require her assistance," Sherlock spoke up. "You can set the coffee on the table."

"Right," Molly nodded.

She watched the two out of the corner of her eye. Tanis leaning in close to look over Sherlock's shoulder. He made no move to or sound to move her away.

"So um… how do you know Sherlock?" Molly asked.

"Girlfriend," Sherlock answered. "Two weeks, forty-six hours and nineteen minutes and counting."

"Gi…girlfriend?" Molly stuttered.

Tanis smiled. "Isn't he just wonderful?"

"Y…yeah. Just great," Molly forced a smile. "I uh…there's something I need to do."

Tanis frowned as Molly rushed out. "I think you've upset the poor girl," She said getting up, "Molly?"

She walked out and found Molly quietly crying.

"I'm sorry… Sherlock was an ass to spring this on you," she told her, "Are you alright?"

Molly sniffed. "I… I should've known he wouldn't want to go out with me."

"You're too good for him anyway. You could do so much better than Sherlock," Tanis told her. "Let's go out for drinks tonight."

"Re...really?" Molly asked.

Tanis nodded and smiled. "If you're not busy of course."

Molly shook her head. "I'm off in an hour…I, um, just broke up with my boyfriend actually."

"Then we're gonna find you a nice guy…or at least a one night stand," Tanis told her. "I swear it. Just come find me when you're ready."

"Oh…I don't have anything to wear," Molly suddenly realized.

"You can borrow something of mine," Tanis grinned.

Molly smiled. "That's very kind of you. I'll see you in an hour than."

Tanis returned the smile as she walked away. She went back into the lab and pinched Sherlock.

"What was that for?" He asked, frowning.

"You really hurt Molly's feelings," Tanis answered. "So she and I are going to go out later to find her someone better."

Sherlock snorted. "Good luck with that."

She pinched him again.

"Ow! Stop it," he said, pushing her hand away.

"If you promise to apologize to Molly I will," she replied.

"I'll apologize to Molly. Happy?" He said.

"Very," She replied, sitting on the counter.

_The things I do, _he thought shaking his head.


End file.
